


Unforgettable

by enceiles



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, hand wavey post apocalyptic medical stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enceiles/pseuds/enceiles
Summary: First there was darkness, then the light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I'm trying out. 
> 
> Paired with [Unforgettable - Nat King Cole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDN5rG3wLa4).
> 
> Un beta'd and barely edited, as per usual.

First there was darkness. Then, the light.

It came and went in glimmers, like the sun shining past a cover of clouds, or an old marquee sign on a moonless night.

One. Two. Three. Shudder. Four. Five. Six. Shudder.

Flash.

Glimmer.

And again, the dark. Always the dark.

 

She woke up first to the light, and then the dark.

It was the dark that blinded her, and she struggled to blink through the spots that lingered and made her head ache. The room, because she was in a room if the fan hanging overhead was any indication, was dark and out of focus. Her lids were heavy, as if they were weights hanging off her eyelashes, and the sweat on the back of her neck felt tacky and itchy, but blissfully cool with that single fan pushing around the stagnant air.

And her head. It pounded with every thud of her heart, as dull as a boulder being dropped on her again and again. She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut until white spots began dancing behind her eyelids.

There was a flurry of movement, she managed to realize through her cloudy mind, as a figure stood. She opened her eyes, because if this was death finally coming to take her from the fucking pickaxe in her brain she would gladly welcome it. Instead, staring at the lazy fan stirring the dry air, she heard someone speak.

She knew she should listen, or at least pretend to because she couldn’t seem to hear anything over the creaking of the fan, but the man didn’t seem to notice. And it was a man, she realized, that had been moving moments before. Somewhere in his speech, she had turned her head to him, and it took more than a few moments to realize that the man was talking to her.

He was sitting up in a chair across from her, slouched with his legs spread and hands clasped in his lap. Once her eyes finally focused in the dim room, she realized that he was old, balding on top but with the bushiest moustache she’d ever seen. His eyes looked kind, though, and his voice was soothing like cool water on a burn.

He said something that sounded like a question, and she took a moment to realize that he wanted an answer. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth again.

“It’s alright,” the man said with sudden clarity. “You’ve been out for a couple days. Already cheated death, ain’t expecting any other miracles.” She blinked slowly, trying to process the words.

Her mind was covered in a fog - a dense fog like she’s only ever heard about. It was like wading in knee deep water as thick as honey, with the next thought just out of reach, hidden from her by a thick grey cloud. She watched the fan spin again, around and around.

“Well, let’s start with something easy, then,” he said, patting his hands on his thighs. “I’m Doc Mitchell. I run this clinic here in Goodsprings. You’ve been out for a while now. I had to do some surgery on your head. Your face too, actually. You were in pretty bad shape when you came in.”

Still, she watched the fan, trying to keep up with what the doctor said. Goodsprings. A surgery. Her face. Everything he said was on a delay, with each word requiring her to pick it up, flip it over, and puzzle it out before finally moving on to the next one.

He must have said something else, because when she turned to him again, he was looking at her like he was waiting for something. He held out a dusty square, and she realized it was a mirror. She squinted at it.

“Well, don’t you want to see the damage? Make sure your nose is there and all.” She crossed her eyes to check, then realized too late that he was joking. She wasn’t sure what kind of expression was on her face, but it made the old man laugh.

“At least I know you’re hearin’ me. Here, check,” he said, and so she did. She took the shined metal, cold to the touch under her sleep warmed fingers, and lifted the it to her face with shaking arms.

She was bald, was the first thing she realized. She doesn’t know if she had hair before, but it was gone now, like it was shaved a few days ago. Cloth wrappings covered most of it, where the pain was radiating from with every move she made.

Her face, as a whole, wasn’t anything too remarkable. She looked like a stranger, like someone you would walk past on the street and think nothing about it. Her lips were lips, her nose a nose. Her face was clean except for the dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were red as if she had rouge painted on. She pressed against it and hissed at the realization that she was sunburnt.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I tried to look for something to help it go down, but you can guess that aloe’s in pretty high demand around these parts.” She nodded once and immediately regretted it. Doc winced as he eased the mirror out of her hands. “You should probably stick to words from here on out. Can’t have you shaking around your noggin’ after what you already put it through.” The mirror clattered against the cart next to him, and she felt enough of that gray cloud part.

She realized, almost belatedly, that she had no idea what she was supposed to look like, if the lines of her face where what they were before the surgery. Did her nose always slope like that, one bold straight line from between her eyes. Were her cheeks always so jaunt, her eyes so sunken they looked bruised? Was that why she couldn’t recognize herself in the mirror?

She sighed, more awake now that she’s had time to gather what little thoughts she had left, and tried to ease herself up. Her head immediately protested the movement, even as slow as she was to get up, and she winced at the sensation of blood rushing out of her head.

“Fuckin’ hurts,” she grunted finally, jaw clenched. The doctor tutted and gently held her arm, helping her to sit, her back against the wall while she regained her strength.

“A bullet to the head’ll do that,” Doc said, calmly and kindly.

She let that digest, turning the words around in her mind. That’s what he meant when he said that she cheated death. She was shot in the head, which explained the headache and the gauze. So did the confusion. Sunburn, not so much, but she figured that there was only one cause for that. At least that meant that she wasn’t out for too long, if it was still fresh enough to hurt without peeling. She looked at her hands, at the dirt under her nails.

“Now,” Doc said, leaning forward in his chair. “What’s your name, miss?”

She felt like she should lie down again. Her name. Something so simple, but now so far away that it was barely a shadow. A name. She had one, she must have, because everyone does. Even if they don’t have a name, there’s always something - one word that wraps someone all up like a bow on a gift, one that tells you nothing about someone and everything at the same time.

But she pushed and pushed, pressed and pressed. The shadow only got dimmer.

“I don’t know,” she said. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them, as if she could reach in and pull her name out, as if she just left it behind around the corner from her left eye. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

He sighed and slumped back in his seat.

“It’s alright. It’s understandable what you’ve been through,” he said. He seemed to jot something down on a piece of paper sitting next to the mirror. “Now-”

“Enough with the interrogation,” she gritted out, tipping her head back against the wall. The doctor seemed to understand, and he sighed. She looked at him past her cheeks, and he smiled sheepishly.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. You’ve probably got more questions than I have.”

Her breath rattled in her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sound.

“You said I’m in Goodsprings?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat after so many days without use. She cleared her throat sheepishly, and pursed her lips when Doc offered her an old bottle of water, half empty. “That where you found me?”

“Victor found you up in the cemetery. He’s the one that carried you down here,” the Doc said slowly. She felt her head pinch as her eyebrows drew in. She couldn’t remember any Victors. “He’s one of the town folk, I don’t think you would’ve met him before. In case that’s what you’re worried about that,” Doc added quickly. She blinked.

“What was I doing there?” she asked after a moment, feeling the pinch grow stronger. She reached up to her head, only for Doc to gently guide her arm back down.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’s just gonna hurt more.” She looked down at the bottle in her hand. “Drink some of that, I’m gonna change the wrapping on your head.”

She wanted to say something, anything. Whenever she opened her mouth though, her thoughts became stuck together, dipped into the bitterest honey.

She brought the bottle to her lips and let the water pour into her mouth, chasing away the dryness that still wanted to linger. She swallowed around the bitter taste of minerals, and eased the bottle back into her lap.

Without another word between them, the doctor put an hand on her arm and gently guided her away from the wall and to the edge of the bed. She let her shoulders slump, and she stared at the bottle hanging between her legs.

“Oh, wait, I almost forgot,” Doc said, alerting her to look up at him. He was holding onto a piece new linen to wrap around her head, but his eyebrows were furrowed, like he was remembering something. “You had these letters on you, with your other stuff. I didn’t go through it or nothing, but I thought you might want to check it out, see if there’s anything about a name or, well. Anything, I suppose.”

She nodded eagerly, then hissed again at the pain. _Fuck_ , when was she going to learn.

The doctor left her field of vision, and the sounds of shuffling and humming filling the nearly silent house. He was back as soon as he left though, holding out the papers, half folded and tied together with an old piece of twine. She handed him the bottle and hurried to grab the bundle, ripping the string off as quickly as she could, even tearing a few for her troubles.

She could hear Doc moving around her, felt him taking the fabric from her head and prodding at the wound. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

She found names on the first one, addressed to a _Maddy_ and sent from a _Laurel_ . These names, could one be hers? She couldn’t tell looking through the note, so she hurried to read the next, this time between a _Thomas_ and _Flora_ . She sighed and flipped to the next. Again and again, looking at the thin dirty papers and only seeing names that already belonged to someone else. _Danny_ and _Mike_ , _John_ and _Julia_ , _Samuel_ and _Billy_.

She tore through them all once, then again to make sure she didn’t miss anything. Nothing.

Laurel was mad at Maddy for running off with her sister, calling her words that made eyebrows rise. Mike wrote to Danny about all the things he missed about him, what he wanted to do when they were together again. She held tiny little bite sized bits of peoples’ lives in her hands, and none of them were for her.

She put the notes down into her lap with a huff.

“Nothing?” Doc asked.

She shook her head and winced again. Doc sighed and sat back down in his chair.

She looked at another paper, smaller than the others and hidden among the notes, a scrap with a few words. _New Vegas_ , it read, _for courier six_.

“Just a courier six. Guess that’s me,” she said. She handed the scrap to the doctor, and looked back at the bottle sitting on the table next to the couch.

It took her a moment to process it, wading through that dark murky water that filled her head. A courier. It would explain the notes, she figured. Maybe the sunburn too, walking to places to deliver these letters, under the hot sun of New Vegas.

She heard the doctor hum, and then the quiet rustle of him turning it over to look for anything on the back. It was blank, she knew.

“I guess so,” Doc said. “What should we call you, then? Until you remember. Would you like come up with a name? That way the town has something to call you instead of whatever nonsense they’ll end up spreading around.”

One last time, she tried to force something into her head, something other than this emptiness. Panic, maybe. She should feel panic. Fear, too. Not this numbness, this absolute fucking nothing.

She looked at the words scribbled on the brown paper, small dull lines where they were held in Doc’s hands. She saw three letters, a beacon in the dark, something that told her nothing and everything.

“No,” she said, finally. “Six is fine.”  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by Chinese food, tangerine tea, and [Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHTrew0DGVo).

If there was one good thing about Goodsprings, it was that there was never a shortage of food.

“It’s up on the rock!” Sunny shouted, rifle pointed to the cliff over their heads, where the young gecko bared its teeth and snarled viciously. She sent off a shot, but it went wide and striked the sand next to the creature, sending a cloud of dust up in the air. Spooked by the commotion, it leaped off the ledge and charged them, with only a few yards between them and the gecko.

“Fuck me,” Six muttered. She lifted her loaded rifle and fired off a shot, clipping the gecko’s shoulder and sending it staggering back. She lowered the rifle with a relieved sigh, only for the damn thing to straighten up and continue on its path to them. “Where the fuck is Cheyenne.”

“Got it,” Sunny grunted, and sent one last bullet right between the gecko’s eyes. Without so much as a shriek, it collapsed into the hot sand before giving a final twitch. Six spared a glance up on the outcropping again to make sure the gecko didn’t have any friends late for the party, just as Sunny strolled on over to the dead creature, giving it a poke with the barrel of her gun.

“What is that, five?” she asked, slinging her gun over her back. Six snorted and moved to stand next to her.

“Nice try. I got the first shot,” Six said, lowering her rifle to the ground and taking a knife from her belt.

“Yeah, but I killed it,” Sunny argued. Six rolled her eyes and plunged the knife into the gecko’s chest, pulling down with one smooth motion. Cheyenne trotted over then, barking happily at her owner as Sunny patted her head twice with a soft _heya, girl_.

“You had your chance. Far as I’m concerned, that’s five for me and four for you. I win.” Six made quick work of the creature, pulling aside organs and skin to get to the meat and slicing it out. Cheyenne came closer to stick her nose into the carcass, and Six huffed, nudging the dog away.

She looked up at Sunny, who was looking up at the rocks with an odd expression on her face.

“See something up there?” Six asked, leaning back on her haunches. Sunny startled, just slightly, and turned her head back to Six. Six raised an eyebrow and dangled the meat in front of her.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Sunny said, pulling the salt bag from her pack and holding it open. Six tossed the steak in and turned back to the meat, looking for another decent cut.

“You okay? You’ve been acting funny all day,” Six asked.

“I’m fine,” Sunny said easily enough. Six glanced up only to find Sunny already looking at her, a soft smile on her face. Standing up again, Six placed another steak into the bag, that was now full and round with their finds.

“You never let me win,” Six said, arms crossing over her chest. “C’mon, spill. What’s up.” Sunny sighed and lowered her head, tieing off the end of the salt bag and hanging it off her pack.

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay? Let’s just get back, the sun’s killing me.” As much as Six wanted to press, she had a point. It was already well past midday, and the sun still shone just as intensely as it did that morning.

Six bent to grab her rifle, shaking it free of sand, and slung it over her shoulder with a nod.

The walk back to the saloon was never too taxing, since the two women kept their hunting ground away from the highway, where some straggling Powder Gangers like to make an appearance. But still, with the sun shining bright above them, they were glad to step into Trudy’s bar, where the welcoming sounds of the jukebox and Trudy's humming greeted them. Cheyenne hurried to her spot by the door, lapping at the bowl of water Trudy set out for her.

“Got supper,” Sunny announced, sticking her head through the doorway where Trudy was wiping down the counter.

“Anything good?” she asked, smiling at the girls.

“Just some gecko. Didn’t run into any coyotes today,” Six answered, leaving her rifle in Trudy’s office for safe keeping as Sunny placed the bag in one of the booths. Six hauled herself onto one of the stools, careful not to put her dusty elbows on the bar.

Trudy hummed in answer and continued on wiping the rest of the bar, too busy to notice Sunny helping herself behind the bar, grabbing two bottles of beer and passing one to Six.

“You girls hold down the shop, I’m gonna go start the fire,” Trudy said, throwing the rag onto one of the stools and ducking out. Sunny and Six watched her leave, and once the door shut behind her, Six turned to her partner.

“Ready to talk about it now?” she asked, futility trying to get the cap off her bottle with the edge of the bar now that Trudy was out. Sunny rolled her eyes and took the bottle from her, doing it in one quick and sharp motion.

Six smiled in thanks and took the bottle back, but waited for a response.

“Dunno. There’s really not much to talk about,” Sunny said with a shrug.

“Bullshit,” Six said, taking a swig from her bottle. Sunny rolled her eyes and followed suit. “Your head’s been up in the clouds since we left this morning. Clearly something’s up. I’ve never seen you think so hard.”

Sunny reached out to flick Six’s forehead, which she tried to dodge to no avail. Six got her revenge by leaning over the counter, trying to pull a squirming Sunny closer to lick a stripe up her cheek. Of course, that was the moment Trudy decided to join them again.

“Girls, please, not on the counter. I just washed that.”

Six sunk in her seat, properly scolded with her head hanging sheepishly.

“Sorry, ma’am,” she said, with Sunny mumbling it too. They caught each other’s eyes, and Six stuck her tongue out.

“Really, you two are like children sometimes,” Trudy sighed, taking the salt bag from where Sunny discarded it in one of the booths. Without more than a glance in their direction, Trudy rolled her eyes and moved back towards the door with their soon-to-be dinner in hand. “You two get out some plates. And my counter is not a damn bottle opener.”

Six and Sunny, waited for the door to shut behind her again before breaking off into giggles.

 

 

In the months that Six had been in Goodsprings, she and Sunny created a routine. And, just as they did every day after dinner, they headed to the cemetery with two unopened bottles of beer.

Full with salted gecko meat and grilled jalapeños, Sunny and Six plopped into the dirt facing The Strip, watching the flashing lights blur together into a halo floating over the Mojave. Handing Sunny her bottle and a knife, the only sounds between them was the soft click of metal on metal, and then the hissing of the bottles being opened. Six took her bottle back eagerly and look a long sip, sighing at the bitter taste of the old beer.

“It’s been a minute,” Sunny said after a quiet moment, squinting out to the glowing city..

“Since what?” Six asked, thinking back to their walk up the hill.

“Since you came here, idiot,” she said, nudging her shoulder. Six huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Right sorry, I forgot I could read minds,” she said dryly. Sunny laughed and tilted her head back with her bottle to her lips.

“Seriously, though,” Sunny said after a quiet moment. “It’s been, what, a year? Since you came here.”

“I guess,” Six said, kicking at the rock by her foot.

“Hair’s coming in nicely,” Sunny added. Six snorted and ran a hand through the messy brown locks, only a few inches longer than when Doc had to shave it all.

“Yeah, you like this?” she asked with a grin, laughing at Sunny’s wiggling eyebrows. “I know you didn’t bring this up just to talk about my hair.”

Sunny sighed, and her smile dimmed.

She looked out to the shining strip. Without a word, she laid back into the cool sand, staring up at the starless sky. After a moment, Six lowered herself down too, careful not to spill her beer into the ground. Their clothed arms were pressed close between them, and Six shivered at the warmth.

“Do you remember the strip? From before?” Sunny asked, voice soft. Six thought in silence.

“Not really. Kind of. I don’t know,” Six said, eyebrows furrowing. “I think I must’ve been there before. I know what it looks like on the inside, but that’s it. There’s no one, no memories, nothing that’ll help me.” Six sighed and rubbed her forehead with the hand still holding the bottle, not wanting to separate from Sunny.

They were quiet again, and a coyote howled in the distance.

“I really wish I knew how to help you, Six,” Sunny admitted softly. Six opened up an eye, glancing at her friend. Sunny was staring up at the moon, drifting off in though with the same weird look on her face as she had earlier that day.

“Is that what’s got you all thoughtful today?” Six asked, not unkindly. Sunny sighed and rolled her eyes, making Six smile and close her eye again.

“It’s not just that,” Sunny muttered. “It’s been a year, and we still don’t know nothing. Where you came from, if someone out there is missing you, if there’s somewhere you should be instead of this shitty old town with nothing going on.”

“Don’t say that,” Six said, sitting up suddenly. “I like it here. You’re here, Trudy’s here. I’m happy here. Isn’t that enough?”

“Sure it is, if I really thought that you wanted to be here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know that you want to go.” Six opened her mouth to protest. “Six, we’ve been inseparable for a year. I can tell that you want out.” Six deflated then, shoulders hunching in.

“It’s not that I want to go,” Six admitted after a moment. “But I just-” Six hesitated.

“You want to know who you really are,” Sunny finished for her. They were silent.

“I remembered something else,” Six whispered.

“You did?” Sunny asked, sitting up on her elbows.

“The night I got shot. There were these men, standing over there.” Six pointed to her hollowed out grave just behind them. “But there was this one guy, I think he was the leader. Weasley kind of shitbag, had the kind of accent people from The Strip give themselves. He had on this- this stupid ugly jacket,” Six said, laughing to herself. She sobered quickly, though, looking behind her at her grave.

“He’s the one that shot me, but he said something weird. Right before he killed me, he said ‘the truth is, Kitten, the game was rigged from the start.’ I have no idea what that means but- there’s something about it, the way he said it, I think he-” Six hesitated, and turned to look at Sunny. “I think he knew me. From before.”

They were quiet,

“I think I’m gonna go find him,” Six said finally.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Sunny said softly. When Six looked at her again, she had this soft little smile on her face.

“I’m gonna miss you so damn much,” Six said, throwing her arms around Sunny’s shoulders. Sunny let out a soft _oof_ , but kept them from falling down the hill.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” she whispered. Six sighed and buried her face into Sunny's shoulder.

They sat like that for a long moment, just feeling the warmth of each other in the cold desert night.

 

 

As small and shitty a town as Goodsprings was, Six knew she was going to miss it.

“Last chance, Sun,” Six said, smiling at her friend. “The road’s gonna be lonely out there.”

Sunny laughed and shook her head, just like she did all the other times Six asked her during the past week.

“You’ll be fine out there,” she said, flicking the brim of Six’s hat. Just keep off the highway best you can until you get to Primm. Those damn Powder Gangers are still out there, last I heard.” Six nodded, looking out behind her to the open road.

Six knew it all already, though, spending every night with Sunny going over the route from here to the next town over and any little thing that could wrong. But it was now time to go, and Six still felt her heels dig into the hot Goodsprings sand.

She was prepared to miss Sunny. In the past year, she and Sunny had gotten as closer as sisters, closer even. She'd been Six's number one confidant, the person that she trusted more than herself. She was ready to miss her, and to miss Trudy, who had become a mother to the both of them.

But she wasn't ready to miss, Chet, cheap asshole as he was, or Easy Pete and his stories on the front porch of the saloon. Suddenly, with a pain in her heart, she thought about Doc, and the hours he spent watching over her when no one else knew to. 

It was then that Cheyenne nosed her way between them to smell at Six’s hand, looking for any bits of gecko she had after packing away her rations earlier in the morning. She laughed and knelt to the dog’s level, giving her a good rub on her head.

“Gonna miss you, Cheyenne,” she said, rubbing down the fur of the dog’s back. “Now, you better take good care of your master, here. She’s gonna be real heartbroken for a while.” Sunny scoffed, and Six looked up at her, ignoring the lump in her throat in favor of patting the dog’s head one last time.

“We’re gonna miss you, Six,” Sunny said. Her arms were crossed, but it looked more like she was hugging herself, which Six quickly decided was stupid. She hopped back up and threw her arms around Sunny, laughing when Cheyenne thought they were playing and started barking happily.

“I’m gonna see you real soon,” Six promised. “Once I find this asshole, I’m coming right back here. I’ll even get you something shiny from New Vegas.”

“Good,” Sunny said, sniffing once. Six pulled back slightly, looking at the sun colored apples of Sunny’s cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned in and kissed the warm skin there.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sun,” Six said, stepping away and letting her arms fall back to her sides. Sunny nodded and rubbed her nose on her sleeve.

“Be seeing you, cowboy,” Sunny said, wrapping her arms around herself again. Six smiled sadly, but nodded, tipping the brim of her hat in farewell.

From what she could remember, she’s had a short life. Waking up alone and scared shitless in Doc’s clinic was probably what she would have considered the hardest day in her life. But, saying goodbye to this shitty old town gave it a run for its money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure what's gonna be happening next chapter, but I have the next few after that outlined lmao
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by pre-orgo quiz jitters and [Malagueña - Ritchie Valens](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1ntf5Bg2vU). 
> 
> Also, in theme of me butchering up the story, Cass might be a little ooc. In this house we stan a rootin’ tootin’ cowboy.

_The first thing she noticed was the shimmer of The Strip._

_It followed you everywhere, especially on nights like this, where it shone brighter than the moon and lingered behind your eyelids. She blinked once, twice against the sand in her eyes and allowed for the world to come to her beyond the blinding lights and pounding of her forehead. Still, The Strip shined just in front of her, mocking her, pointing it’s great finger at her and saying,_ isn’t this what you wanted,   _with the kind of fake laugh everyone in New Vegas seemed to have._

_Voices above her droned on, about what she couldn’t tell. She was much more focused on her bound hands and the way they wouldn’t part even after twisting and pulling against the rough rope that scratched at her wrists. Her mind raced, thinking of what the fuck she could have possibly gotten herself into._

_“Guess who’s waking up over here,” someone above her said, rough and weasley in a way that made her skin crawl. Her head throbbed pitifully, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She could see it all still, the crowds and the dresses and the cloud of smoke, and she wished the sand underneath her knees would part and swallow her with it._

_“Time to cash out,” he said, throwing his cigarette to the ground just as she looked up to her captors. She knew the voice sounded familiar, and looking at him now, here, surrounded by thugs and backlit by the moon and city behind him, she remembered exactly why she left in the first place._

_God, was he lucky someone gagged her._

_“Would you get it over with?” one of the men behind him grunted._

_“Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain’t a fink, dig.” She flexed her hands, thinking of all the ways she could make him bleed. It was the one plus side of living out in the Mojave, she thought, her new willingness to hurt the assholes that tried to fuck with her._

_“You’ve made your last delivery, Kitten. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene,” he said, as if he really was sorry for all the shit he’s pulled. He pulled a gun out of his jacket, and she watched the way it glimmered against the light. “From where you’re kneeling, it must seem like and 18 karat run of bad luck.”_

_The air around them froze as he lowered the gun to her head. She knew she should be scared, should try to talk him out of it, that she would anything for him to cut the rope around her wrists and ankles and just let her go, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew it was a lie._

_“Truth is, the game was rigged from the start,” he said._

_There was a light, and then the dark._

 

 

Kitten sighed as she knelt beside the headless Viper bleeding out onto the hot sand underneath them. She pat down his legs, pulling a short blade from his pocket. It was rusted and nearly worn to a dull edge - worthless to her. She threw it away from her with a huff, rubbing at her brow with the back of her other hand.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Cass cheered from across the camp.

“What’d you find?” Kitten shouted back. She heard the rustling of paper and a metallic clink, followed by a heavy sigh just a moment later.

“Do you have any goddamn clue how long I’ve been looking for one of these,” Cass asked, hurrying over with a cigarette hanging from her lips and her fist held out in front of her

“What, a lighter?” Kitten asked, squinting up at her.

“Those NCR assholes hoarded these like they fuckin’ dipped in gold.” She pocketed the metal rectangle, smugly patting where it sat in her jacket.

“Thought you didn’t smoke,” Kitten muttered as she returned to the prone body. She patted down his flank as Cass hummed around her cigarette. Finding no other weapon, Kitten stood with a huff, dusting the sand off her knees.

Kitten stood there for a moment, still squinting against the sun, and watched Cass take another drag of her cigarette.

“What?” Cass said, eyebrow raised as she watched Kitten from the corner of her eye.

“Aren’t you gonna offer me one?” Kitten asked, mirroring her expression. Cass rolled her eyes and dug her pack and lighter out of her pocket before tossing it to Kitten. Kitten clumsily grabbed at it, glaring lightly at Cass as she walked past her and towards where Nipton sat just on the horizon.

Kitten couldn’t remember the last time she smoked. She hadn’t when she was Six, since Chet was always trying to drain her and Sunny of their caps, and yet the motions came like a second nature to her. She placed the cigarette between her lips and lit the tip, inhaling the heavy smoke and releasing it into the stale breeze. She watched the grey clouds dance and raise towards the sun, until it became indistinguishable from the rest of the blinding light shining down on her.

“You comin’?” Cass yelling somewhere behind her. Kitten blinked, looking down to her feet and trying to see past the sunspots that dotted her vision. Ignoring the throbbing of her temple, she jogged to catch up to Cass.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, handing back the lighter and pack.

The road from the NCR outpost to Nipton wasn’t particularly long but, with the sun on their necks, the hour long walk stretched on as if Nipton was moving away from them with every step.

“So, if you had to choose,” Cass said, throwing the butt of her fifth cigarette out towards the dunes. “Ranger or caravanner.”

“Why are we still doing this?” Kitten asked tiredly.

“Because I’m bored and I said so. Ranger or caravanner.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, wiping the sweat off her chin with the bandana around her neck. “Ranger, I guess.”

“Seriously?” Cass scrunched up her nose at the thought.

“What?” she said defensively. “You put me on the spot.”

“I mean, I guess they have that whole rugged thing going for them,” Cass said, rubbing her chin in consideration. Kitten scrunched her nose in turn.

“Gross,” she said, sticking her tongue out like she had a bad taste in her mouth. “You’re makin’ it sound like I want to fuck ‘em.”

“You don’t?” Cass said, surprised.

“What? No, of course I don’t.”

“So you’d do it with a caravanner, then?” Kitten made a face and then sped up her steps, trying to outpace Cass. Cass laughed and followed suit, walking backwards once she caught up.

“I thought the game was, "who would we want to get stuck out in the Mojave with," not "who’s better in bed”,” Kitten said. Cass shrugged, grinning to herself.

“Probably wouldn’t be called that, for one. Not like there’s many beds out here to sleep in.” Kitten groaned and shook her head. “You know, I didn’t peg you as a prude.”

“I ain’t a prude,” Kitten said, trying hard not to pout.

“Then answer the question. Ranger or caravanner.”

“Caravanner?” Kitten said, squinting out on the horizon.

“I knew it,” Cass said, grinning triumphantly.

“No, look, there’s someone up ahead.” Kitten cocked her head, watching as a black figure ran around Nipton’s entrance in an inexplicable pattern, stopping every so often to jump in place. “Do you think they’re part of a caravan?”

“Might be,” Cass said. “Over on that ledge?”

Kitten looked to where Cass was pointing and sighed.

“Not there,” Kitten said, putting her hand on Cass’ shoulder and slowing them to a stand-still. She pointed up the road, where the smoldering town was just now coming close enough to see the burning pyres in the street.

“Huh. Weird,” Cass said, blinking once. “Is he… screaming?”

They listened as the stranger cheered into the smoke-filled air before setting off down the road towards them.

“You know what, I don’t like this,” Cass said, tipping her hat back on her head. “Maybe we should find some other way around.”

“No way in fuckin’ hell. I ain’t going anywhere until I get some water and a little shut eye,” Kitten said, readjusting the shotgun on her back. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

 

 

“Well, that’s a giant fuckin’-,” Kitten squinted then looked back to Cass over her shoulder. “What’s that thing called again?”

“A dinosaur?” Cass said, raising an eyebrow. Cass shuddered visibly, hands quickly moving up and down her arms to inspire them to warm up. “You don’t know what a dinosaur is?”

Kitten gestured vaguely.

Cass sighed, as Kitten turned back to the statue, watching it with a small smile on her face.

“Did you lose more blood when I wasn't looking or are you just this tired?” Cass asked, shivering as the brisk night air blew against her thin jacket. Kitten blinked a couple times, then squinted down at the sand behind them to double check.

“Alright, wrong question. Let’s just get us a room,” Cass said, as she dragged Kitten by her good arm towards the buzzing sign.

“I call the right side of the bed,” Kitten said, only slightly delirious.

"People who set off mines after their partner gives them a heads up don't get to decide who's sleeping where."

"That's not fair!" Kitten defended weakly.

"Life's not fair. You're lucky we didn't get killed by those Legion assholes with the way you were mouthin' off at them."

"There's always tomorrow," Kitten said with a sleepy smile, propping herself up against the doorframe to the motel office for balance.

Cass' middle finger shone bright in the starless sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always! I thought I’d mention it now because I just realized that it's never really explained, but Six changes her name to Kitten based on her new memory, believing it’s her name. I couldn’t find a way to organically bring this up without going really out of the way with the story. I hope this wasn't too confusing even though I'm 89% positive it was.
> 
> As always, I appreciate feedback.

**Author's Note:**

> I very vaguely have a plan on where I'm expecting to take this. I love feedback, good or bad.
> 
> I'm obviously taking a lot of liberties when it comes to what actually happens in game, so bear with me. This is my courier, right now going by Six. Next chapter will show how she's grown in her time at Goodsprings. 
> 
> Tags, characters, and relationships will be added as we go.


End file.
